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Over 10 hours, JJO Band Camp gives energy

Katjusa Cisar  —  7/30/2008 9:43 pm

One of the common themes in the between-song banter at the JJO Band Camp at Willow Island on Sunday was not letting the Man get you down. It doesn't matter if the Man is your stupid 9-to-5 job, your parents or your inner demons, they all represent the hate that's keeping you from your dreams.

And nothing raises a collective middle finger at the Man like rocking it hard in the blazing sun for 10 solid hours to 16 bands. Take that, Monday morning.

Things kicked off at the ungodly early hour of 11 a.m. with Kicking K8, a California band that shook the crowd out of its morning daze with a 20-minute set of angry, angry rock. That they can conjure that much aggression before lunchtime is impressive.

One thing that's reliable about Willow Island, the Alliant Energy Center's outdoor venue, is that the acts start right on time (unless there's rain). A clock on the stage wall keeps everybody on task. Not even a minute after Kicking K8's final chords resonated in the air, Evolocity took the second stage. Bands switched off between these two stages all day.

After the ferocious energy of Kicking K8, Evolocity was like a deflated balloon in their relative mellowness. But when the lead singer told the crowd they drove 37 hours to be there and that playing Band Camp was a dream come true, well, it's hard to be a hater.

Bobaflex played an acrobatic, high voltage set. The guitarist played while balancing on the bassist's shoulders, then leapt off and whirled around and around in circles and ended on the stage floor, writhing on his back. It wasn't even noon yet.

Next up, the Sick Puppies (from Sydney, Australia) put to shame every other band in the lineup by rocking out with only three members. They make larger ensembles look like a bunch of sissies.

Keyboards? Two guitarists? A lead singer who doesn't play an instrument? The Sick Puppies have none of that flab. They're tight, loud, sexy and, yes, totally sick. Bassist Emma Anzai had the honor of being the only female in the entire Band Camp lineup, a distinction she rose above by being one of the best -- if not the best -- bass players of the whole day (she's been referred to as the "female Flea," after all). Her precise, flicking fingers and cool stage presence were mesmerizing.

By the time Hurt came on at 12:30 p.m., the age-diverse crowd was geared up. A lot of mother-daughter and father-son pairs stood together. The predictable under-18 set of slouch-shouldered boys and skinny girls in fishnets was out in full effect. But many in the crowd were in their 30s, 40s and up.

Young and old, Band Camp generally attracts the kind of people who enjoy wearing T-shirts with irreverent messages ("If the music is too loud, you're too old," "I support single moms, one dollar at a time").

Hurt played what can be best described as gypsy metal. The guitarist plays good rapid-fire licks that propel a hard-driving force, but what made Hurt stand out was the lead singer's soaring violin. He switches between two -- one electric and one acoustic -- and gives the band a unique sound that's part metal and part fiddle dance tune. Together, those two are surprisingly powerful.

Back again at the smaller stage, Black Stone Cherry played old school metal with lots of long hair, head banging, growling vocals and screaming guitars. It's only 1:27 p.m. when a bra gets flung on stage and a drumstick sails out over the crowd.

The next three bands kept the energy going. Ra, named after the Egyptian sun god, played just as their namesake was at his hottest and most unrelenting. Shade was nowhere to be found as Anew Revolution played New Order's "True Faith." (The lyrics, "I used to think that the day would never come/I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun" have never felt so right on.)

Dope assaulted the crowd at what was probably the peak of the day's energy. The Chicago band played more New Order songs, but was best when playing its aggressive, original songs.

By 3 p.m., shoes were missing, Mohawks drooping, sunglasses smashed and backs scratched from the mosh pits. Some people sprawled out on the grass as Deaf Pedestrians and Theory of a Deadman played generic, boring sets. Admittedly, both bands had a devoted fan base in the crowd that got into it, but it wasn't enough to hold everyone's attention.

The sideshow attractions on the other side of Willow Island helped when the bands got lame -- JJO Girls in hot pants, pull-up contests with the U.S. Army and concession stands manned by groups like the DeForest High School French and German Clubs and the Town of Madison Fire Department.

RED walked onstage while a voiceover about the Ten Commandments boomed, and they proceeded to thrash through a furious set of songs that screamed a bloody threat to all those inner demons that get between you and the Ten Commandments.

On the big stage, Shinedown got off to a promising, raging start. The lead singer was charismatic, but his between-song chit chat and philosophizing slowed the band's initial momentum. Still, when they were on, they were really on and the crowd went wild for them, singing along to every lyric.

The videography for the whole day was excellently shot and edited. Especially during Shinedown's set, long-view shots of the crowd clapping en masse or of bodies flopping above the mosh pit got effectively spliced with up-close shots of the band from cameras onstage.

Neurosonic's lead singer sounded a lot like Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong, but without the requisite sneer. Despite a phalanx of guitars on stage, the band didn't really have much going on.

At this point, the crunch of crushed beer cups was pretty loud as the crowd herded from stage to stage between bands. People were exhausted, with faces and backs red from the sun.

Before Seether started, Midnight to Twelve played a warm-up on a third stage at the far south end of Willow Island. They really made the best of a pretty sad situation: the sound system was too soft and an awkwardly placed fence blocked them from the audience. Like a lot of the other bands, the lead singer asked the audience to "pursue that dream at any cost." They set a good example in that regard.

By the time Seether started around 7:30 p.m., the crowd had thinned. People yawned and looked like they were just barely hanging on. But Seether took out the night with a long, straight-shooting set of mournful, hard rocking songs.

Katjusa Cisar  —  7/30/2008 9:43 pm